


too much dragon in him

by VenatorNoctis



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Clothed Sex, First Time, M/M, PWP, Rough Sex, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21867658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/pseuds/VenatorNoctis
Summary: Estinien seems to be struggling with the Eye as the group crosses the Churning Mists. Alphinaud would like to help."You understand that this won't fix me.""If you think I came here to nobly martyr myself, a virgin sacrifice on the altar of your voracious hunger—" that does sound extremely exciting, to be honest— "then you are rather less observant than I thought concerning my regard for you."
Relationships: Alphinaud Leveilleur/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 14
Kudos: 161
Collections: Flash Fuck: Round One (2019)





	too much dragon in him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/gifts).



> "Give that boy some dick," you said, and, well, I'd been meaning to give him this particular dick for quite a while. Thanks for the excuse to actually write it. ^^

When Estinien disappears after supper—again—Alphinaud goes after him. Bearing Nidhogg's Eye seems to be taking more of a toll the longer they travel, and he can't simply pretend he doesn't see it.

He catches up to Estinien in the kind of grassy hollow that would seem idyllic if he didn't know what sorts of beasts lurked just out of sight, held at bay perhaps by the aura of menace the Azure Dragoon carries with him. The sun is near gone, the light around them turning violet. Estinien stands at the far edge of the hollow, tension plain in his stance even under the concealment of his armor.

"Leave," he orders as soon as Alphinaud gets close, his voice roughened, almost a growl.

Alphinaud swallows hard. "I came to see if—"

"You can't help," Estinien says. "You can't take this burden from me and I will not abandon my duty. Not while that monster still lives."

"There must be some way." Alphinaud takes a step closer. "Not to stop you from following your path but to support you in it."

He has more to say but Estinien moves, so fast it catches Alphinaud off guard despite having seen the way Estinien fights. In a heartbeat he's on the ground, the breath knocked out of him as he stares up at the darkening sky and the forbidding blank helm of the Azure Dragoon.

"Do you think this is pretty theater, boy?" Estinien hisses through clenched teeth. "Some fairy tale where a fair maid's kiss could break a dragon's curse?"

Alphinaud refuses to acknowledge how that stings, how recently he might have hoped for just that. "I fled Ul'dah in the wake of a coup that saw me and mine falsely accused of regicide," he says shakily. "When I arrived in Ishgard I had to face trained knights in battle to prove myself worthy to live. I've fought alongside you against men who could transform themselves into dragons. I know this world is hard and dangerous and bereft of easy answers."

Estinien takes a deep breath. "But you keep trying."

"If we do _not_ keep trying, Ser Estinien, we can only fail."

Estinien's hands are on his shoulders, not his arms. Keeping him where he is but not denying him the chance to act. He reaches up slowly to take hold of that faceless helm and lift it away. For an instant Estinien's face is clearly visible, sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, before his hair falls around them to cast it into shadow. In that instant he was almost smiling.

"You understand that this won't fix me."

"If you think I came here to nobly martyr myself, a virgin sacrifice on the altar of your voracious hunger—" that does sound extremely exciting, to be honest— "then you are rather less observant than I thought concerning my regard for you."

Estinien laughs, and the sound makes Alphinaud's heart flutter. "I'd think you were nervous, but I _am_ observant enough to know you always talk that much."

Alphinaud's cheeks flush hot. "Kiss me," he says. Surely that's direct enough.

Estinien doesn't quite lunge for him but the kiss has a dragon's heat, teeth scraping and tongue pressing hungrily between Alphinaud's lips. It's nothing that Alphinaud's experiences at the academy prepared him for and everything he's been craving. He reaches up to bury his hands in the satin fall of Estinien's hair, and tightening his grip earns him a growl that thrills down the entire length of his spine. The gauntleted fingers digging into his flesh are going to leave bruises and he can't even be sorry. When one of Estinien's hands slides down to squeeze his stiffening cock almost too roughly, Alphinaud cries out into his mouth.

And instantly, Estinien pulls back. "Flee," he growls, "while you still can." The darkness seems to gather around him, making the disheveled fall of his pale hair that much more stark. His eyes have a terrible light to them, a shine of reds and purples, as if the power of the Eye is waking in him. 

"I'm going nowhere," Alphinaud says. He won't leave Estinien alone to struggle with this power alone, when once before—

No, that's the martyr story that Estinien doesn't want to hear and that wouldn't be anywhere near the entire truth. He owes the truth to both Estinien and himself. "I want to be here. With you. Right now."

The noise Estinien makes doesn't even sound human, a feral snarl that communicates nothing but violence and hunger, and Alphinaud's cock throbs at it. When Estinien falls on him in the next instant, he makes no attempt to resist being manhandled, being flipped onto his front and his hips lifted by rough hands. He fumbles in his pouch for a vial of oil as Estinien pushes his tunic up around his waist and drags his leggings down around his knees. He looks back over his shoulder, holding the vial out.

"Here," he says. "Please."

For a brief moment he's afraid Estinien won't take it; for all that the displays of strength arouse him, he's not sure it would actually be pleasant to be taken dry. But then Estinien plucks the vial from his hand and Alphinaud sags in relief.

"No virgin martyr indeed," Estinien says, his mind apparently clear enough for speech again. The wyrm's influence is not irresistible, only a thing he must guard against.

"I know my own desires," Alphinaud answers, which is close enough to confirmation that it should sound like one but far enough from explicit affirmation that he won't feel himself a liar. He spreads his knees a little farther, as best he can with his leggings still trapping them, and the cool earth gives just slightly beneath him. He lets his head drop forward and breathes deep, willing his hammering heart to slow.

Estinien's hands spread him wide, and the difference in size between them has never been more apparent—and then Estinien's cock nudges at his flesh and that difference is more apparent still. 

At the first push it seems almost impossible, too much resistance even with the oil; Estinien sucks in a sharp breath and his fingers dig in hard against Alphinaud's hip. " _Please_ ," Alphinaud says, "I want— _aaahhhn_ ," his words failing him as Estinien splits him open on the second attempt. It's so very much, fever-hot and thick, and keeps pressing deeper until it feels like there can't possibly be more room. Estinien has both hands on his hips now, pulling him further onto it until Alphinaud's ass is flush against his hips and he's sheathed the whole burning length of his cock in Alphinaud's body. 

He pulls back and thrusts again, his strength and power so overwhelming, and Alphinaud moans desperately. It burns where Estinien breaches him, his flesh stretched farther than he's ever tested himself, and yet the discomfort only makes the heady, overwhelming experience more vivid. Alphinaud feels like he's near to being speared straight through, like Estinien's cock is so deep in him that it could—he shifts his weight so he can press a hand against his belly and he _does_ feel it, thick and hard and filling him so completely that it pushes back against his touch. 

He can't even speak, can't find words for what that does to him. His cock is dripping precome without even being touched and he's making desperate, incoherent noises as Estinien's cock takes him apart. It's too much to take and that's exactly what he craves.

Estinien grabs him by the braid and hauls him backward, forcing him up and changing the pressure of the cock filling him. Alphinaud whimpers, and the whimper becomes a full-throated cry when Estinien leans down to bite his neck. He reaches back to cling to Estinien's armor, trembling as he's taken hard—as Estinien slakes a dragon's appetite in his flesh—

He comes without a single touch to his cock, trembling and clenching down around the lance that spears him, spilling his seed on the ground. Estinien keeps going, pushing more out of him, making the climax wrack him until he's utterly spent and limp. Only then, when it's almost too much to bear and he feels tender in every fiber of his being, does Estinien go still inside him with a growl, thick cock pulsing as he finds his own release with teeth still buried in Alphinaud's flesh.

In the aftermath Alphinaud is extremely aware of the sound of his own breathing, fast and harsh, and he tries to will himself calm. It isn't easy, after what he's just experienced.

Estinien's grip eases. He releases the flesh between his teeth and that, too, throbs with the aftereffects of his touch. "Are you all right?" His voice is hoarse.

"Never better," Alphinaud assures him. Estinien makes a disbelieving noise and Alphinaud concedes, "I may have a few bruises, but I have no regrets about getting them and I can always physick them away should they become troublesome."

"Full glad am I to hear it," Estinien says. He shifts his weight, carefully separating them, and Alphinaud holds his breath so he won't make a sound. It does sting, but he won't have Estinien thinking that he's too delicate to handle this treatment. "Likely we should be returning to the others."

Alphinaud nods, gingerly pulling his leggings back up. He can feel the wetness where Estinien just was. He's going to be thinking of nothing else all night. "It wouldn't do to give our friends cause to worry."

"No indeed." By the time Alphinaud has finished putting his own clothes in order, Estinien's armor is back in place and he's picking up his helm off the ground. 

Alphinaud puts a hand on his arm to stop him from putting it back on. Estinien goes still, looking down at him. Alphinaud goes up on his toes and twines his arms around Estinien's neck, and—with a tiny understated smile—Estinien leans down far enough to allow him to claim a kiss.

It's far less savage than the first one, practically civilized, but no less exciting for that. Alphinaud finds himself giddy with it, feeling lighter than air at the idea that such an experienced, capable, beautiful man would hold him in such esteem. By the time Estinien pulls back from the kiss Alphinaud is breathless.

"Come," Estinien says, replacing his helm at last. "Back to the campfire."

"Of course," Alphinaud agrees. He follows Estinien's lead across the low hills and broken walls. And it's likely true that something this simple will never be enough to tame the dragon that haunts the Azure Dragoon. But Alphinaud watches how much more easily Estinien moves now, how much less tense he seems, and thinks—perhaps, for a time, the dragon can be sated.


End file.
